


Dama De Las Mercedes

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: All of the Sass, Basically disregard all of the movies, But He's Gotta Work For It, Demisexuality, F/M, I don't know why I like that tag so much, Latinas FTW, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Mostly In Spanish, Not Canon Compliant, Odin's A+ Parenting, Persistent Thor, Propositions, Sass, Sibling issues, Strained Relationships, Swearing, not even a little
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercy never thought she'd ask herself what she would do if a god randomly propositioned her.</p><p>Loki didn't expect her response would be to go back to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to work on the sequel for 'The Art Of Loss', but then things happened and I wrote this instead.
> 
> I am not good at planning.

    Mercy knew and understood many things; in her line of work, surrounded by books everyday all day, it was difficult not to. She didn’t, however, understand how she found herself in her current situation; trying to return the books in her cart back to their proper shelves while being followed by Loki (of Asgard; that part was apparently very important, to hear him tell it), who had a very singular interest in her of all people. An interest that was decidedly one-sided.

 

    Mercy wasn’t particularly surprised at the proposition; she got them all the time. She knew perfectly well she was very attractive, with her long dark brown curls kept off her face at work with strategically placed hairpins, black almond-shaped eyes, and the tan skin and voluptuous figure that Latina stereotypes were made of; she had guys and girls alike asking her out all the time. But that certainly did not make it any less annoying.

 

    She turned around and gave him a level stare, eyeing his confident demeanour top to bottom before going back up and settling on his emerald eyes. “No, thank you,” She said simply then turned around and picked up a few books.

 

    “Pardon?” Loki asked, not quite expecting her to dismiss him so easily.

 

    Mercy looked at him over her shoulder. “I’m not interested,” She replied before turning her attention back to the shelf, slotting a book in its place.

 

    “You have no idea the pleasures I could show you,” Loki tried instead, figuring she just needed a little persuasion, as he walked over to her, standing just behind her.

 

    “Mm-hm; I’ll pass,” Mercy replied, not even bothering to look at him this time as she replaced another book.

 

    “You say that _now_...” Loki murmured into her ear, placing a hand on her waist.

 

    Mercy stood up completely straight at the contact and took a deep breath. “Please stop touching me,” She said in a steady, firm voice, “Or my pen is going to end up in your eye.”

 

    Loki took a few steps back, not really wanting to test her resolve to go through with that threat. He wasn’t quite _that_ bored. He was, however, really quite annoyed that this wasn’t working out; it wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before. “I am a prince and a _god,”_ He began indignantly, “There are hundreds who would be _honoured_ to share my bed.”

 

    “Well, there you go; plenty of options,” Mercy replied as she turned back to the cart, utterly unimpressed, gesturing in his direction absently.

 

    “Do you simply not find me attractive?” Loki asked, seeming quite off-put by her reaction.

 

    “No, you’re definitely attractive. Hell; you’re gorgeous,” Mercy replied matter-of-factly, “Doesn’t mean I want to fuck you.”

 

    Loki blinked at her unexpected vulgarity but made no comment on it. “Why not?” He asked instead.

 

    Mercy stopped what she was doing and turned to him with a rather annoyed expression. “Well, first of all, I’m working. Quite busily, I might add. So even if I _were_ interested; your timing is just _bad,”_ She replied, hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him a little, “And secondly, I don’t know you.”

 

    “What does _that_ have to do with it?” Loki scoffed, “I’m asking to bed you, not marry you.”

 

    Mercy let out a most unlady-like snort. “Well, _that’s_ charming,” She said sarcastically, turning back to the cart, “And it has everything to do with it.”

 

    “Why?” Loki persisted.

 

    Mercy rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh, placing the books she had just picked up back on the cart. “Come with me,” She said tiredly and began to walk off down the aisle, not bothering to check if he was following.

 

    She led him to a section of the library with several computers, empty now that the library was closed to the public, and dropped herself into one of the chairs. Opening the available web browser, she quickly typed into the search bar then clicked on a link and stood up as the page loaded and stepped aside.

 

    “There you go,” She told Loki, gesturing towards the computer grandly, “Read. Expand your mind. I’m going back to work.”

 

    With that, she walked away, leaving Loki looking after her then over to the computer screen, the top of the page she had opened reading ‘Demisexuality’ in bold letters. After a moment, Loki’s curiosity got the better of him and he sat down to read, quickly becoming engrossed in the information presented.

 

 

    “So,” Loki began right behind Mercy, earning a startled yelp and a word he didn’t understand that didn’t sound particularly polite, “In order for you to feel sexual attraction; you must first have a deep emotional bond with another.”

 

    Mercy took a moment to calm her breathing then looked up at him over her shoulder. “Exactly,” She replied.

 

    “Well; that complicates things,” Loki huffed.

 

    Mercy snorted again, turning back to the shelf. “No jodas,” She said sarcastically, standing up on the tips of her toes to try and reach a higher shelf (because of _course_ she forgot the step ladder), “So, now that we’ve got that cleared up; you can just go on ahead and...”

 

    “I suppose I’ll just have to court you, then,” Loki interrupted, taking the book from her hand and easily placing it on the shelf.

 

    “Pero que vaina!” Mercy cried out, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. Loki took a step back and looked down at her, having no idea what she’d just said but amused by it, and Mercy turned around and looked up at him. “Look; you’re welcome to waste your time,” She said, hands on her hips, “Just don’t be disappointed when it doesn’t go anywhere.”

 

    “You underestimate me,” Loki said with a smile she quickly decided she was quite uncomfortable with.

 

    “No, I don’t,” Mercy countered drily, “I just don’t see what kind of deep emotional attachment I could possibly form for someone who just wants sex.”

 

    “Perhaps I’ve changed my mind about what I want,” Loki replied with a shrug.

 

    “Riiiight,” Mercy drawled sceptically.

 

    “It’s been known to happen,” Loki said dismissively.

 

    Mercy pursed her plump lips and thought for a long moment. “My next day off is this Friday,” She said casually then turned and began pushing the cart down the aisle, “And I like carnations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'No jodas' is an expression in spanish; in this context, it's akin to saying 'no shit'.
> 
> 'Vaina' is dominican slang and it can mean all sorts of things, in this case 'problem', so 'Pero que vaina' is used as an expression of annoyance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised this is my 44th work posted here. How the heck did _that_ happen? O_o

    When Mercy made her way into her kitchen Friday morning, shuffling her slippered feet drowsily and yawning, she wasn’t really that surprised to see Loki standing there stirring a cup of what she smelled was coffee and looking for all the world like he belonged there; he didn’t really strike her as the type to knock, much less wait for an invitation. So, she simply shuffled past him and served herself a cup of coffee, taking a tentative sip and grimacing slightly at how watery it was before unceremoniously dumping it down the sink and preparing a fresh pot the _right_ way. If Loki was at all offended by her actions, he didn’t show it.

 

    After breakfast, a twenty minute shower, and ten minutes of going through her closet and drawers only to settle on a deep red peasant blouse, black jeans and dark brown riding boots; Mercy finally acknowledged Loki, only to ask him where her flower was.

 

    “You can’t show up for a first date without a flower,” She explained matter-of-factly as she applied some black eyeliner, “It’s not done.”

 

    “Are you always this demanding?” Loki asked curiously from where he sat on her bed watching her.

 

    Mercy laughed, picking up a lightly glossy lip balm and quickly brushing it over her lips. “Why?” She asked teasingly, looking back at him, “Having second thoughts?”

 

    Loki stood and walked over to her; holding out his hand, he conjured a red carnation and held it out to her. “Not even close,” He replied with a grin.

 

 

    He took her to the fair, at her insistence, and proceeded to spend the next three hours being dragged from place to place and secretly tormenting the booth-tenders by circumventing their obviously rigged games so that she could win. The downside to that was that she made him carry all her prizes, but he decided the near-constant smile on her face made it worth it. He still took every opportunity to _lose_ an object here or there, and while she obviously noticed, she didn’t comment on it. They were almost through lunch when Mercy finally turned to ask him the question he had been expecting from the start.

 

    “So, why me?” Mercy asked around the two fries she had just shoved into her mouth.

 

    Sophisticated, she was _not._

 

    “I was bored; you’re beautiful,” Loki replied simply, “And alone.”

 

    “How did you know that?” Mercy asked, reaching for her soda and taking a long sip.

 

    “Well; you just told me,” Loki replied with a grin.

 

    Mercy blinked. “Oh, oh; pero mira este,” She said with a disbelieving laugh, “You have some nerve.”

 

    Loki laughed then leaned forward. “My dear; you have no idea...” He said with a mischievous smile that Mercy found infectious.

 

    “And if I _had_ been seeing someone; what would you have done?” Mercy asked, reaching forward and stealing some of his fries.

 

    “I would have moved on to the next person that caught my eye,” Loki replied, pulling his plate farther out of her reach with a slight glare, “I have _some_ dignity.”

 

    “Good to know,” Mercy laughed, going back to her own fries.

 

     “Why did you agree to this?” Loki asked, genuinely curious.

 

    Mercy hummed lightly. “Same reason you asked,” She replied knowingly.

 

    “You presume to know my reasons?” Loki asked, arching an eyebrow.

 

    “Loki,” Mercy began, and Loki decided he rather liked how his name sounded with her hint of a foreign accent, “It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re lonely; especially when you know what to look for.”

 

    Loki looked away for a moment with a slight frown then leaned back in his chair, returning his gaze to her. “How is it that one such as you _is_ alone?” He wondered aloud, “One would think I wouldn’t be the only to notice you.”

 

    “Oh, you aren’t,” Mercy replied with a sad smile, “But not many change their minds about what it is they want from me. Those that do,” she shrugged, “Tend not to stick around.”

 

    “Well, that is their loss,” Loki began then smirked, “And my gain.”

 

    Mercy burst into loud enough laughter to make a few surrounding people look over at their table oddly, some shaking their heads in disapproval, which made Loki begin to laugh as well. Afterwards they went back to their food; Loki reached forward and snagged some of Mercy’s fries in retaliation for earlier, causing her to swat at his hand and playfully tell him to ‘deja esa vaina’, which prompted him to find out what language she was speaking and make learning it his top priority.

 

 

    Early evening they stood outside the door to Mercy’s house and Loki handed her the remaining stuffed toy she had won at the games, a green dragon she seemed particularly fond of. He stood before her, his mask of confidence slipping in favour of a slightly uncertain expression.

 

    “I’m unfamiliar with how courting works on Midgard these days,” He confessed, “When would it be appropriate for me to see you again?”

 

    “I love how you just assume there’s going to _be_ a second date,” Mercy laughed, leaning back against the door.

 

    “I was under the impression that you enjoyed this one,” Loki said, his uncertainty quickly disappearing, “Was I wrong?”

 

    “No,” Mercy replied, “But maybe I decided what I learned about you today doesn’t appeal to me. It could happen.”

 

    “But it didn’t, did it?” Loki countered.

 

    Mercy let out a slight laugh then turned around to open the door, taking a step inside before turning back to him. “I’m free next Thursday,” She said with a smile. “And I prefer white,” She added with a wink before closing the door.

 

    Loki stood there for a moment longer then huffed a laugh, turned and walked away. He went to a deserted field outside of town and called on Heimdall, a few instructional books he _may_ or may not have stolen tucked under his arm, his mind a bit distracted with ideas for their next outing.

 

    “Curious mortal,” Heimdall spoke suddenly as Loki walked past him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

 

    “Is that not the very definition of mortals?” Loki said absently as he left the observatory, missing the hint of a smile on the Gatekeeper’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Pero mira este' = an expression of disbelief akin to saying 'is this guy for real?'
> 
> 'Deja esa vaina' = in this context it means 'cut it out'


	3. Chapter 3

    Thursday afternoon found Mercy opening the door to a bouquet of white carnations held out by a smiling Loki. She smiled back as she took the flowers and walked back inside to place them in water, returning a few moments later smoothing down the skirt of her burgundy-coloured sundress.

 

    “Buenos días, Señorita Espinal,” Loki greeted, careful to keep his pronunciation correct, as he offered her his arm, “Te vez muy bonita hoy.”

 

    Mercy blinked in surprise then smiled widely. “Gracias,” She replied as she took his arm, “Tú no te vez tan mal.”

 

    Loki laughed slightly as he led her away from the house, absurdly proud of his accomplishment.

 

 

    They went to see a movie, as he had learned that was a standard date activity; he was pleasantly surprised when she scoffed in distaste at all the more romantic films playing and went straight for what turned out to be a rather gory horror film, even more so to find she wasn’t at all scared by it, laughing as the less sensible characters got themselves predictably killed. He did make a mental note to get a larger tub of popcorn next time, as she ate most of it; he was quickly learning she had a surprising appetite for her five foot and four-and-a-half inches.

 

    “I’ve a curiosity,” Loki spoke up as they walked through the park after dinner.

 

    “Which would be?” Mercy prompted.

 

    “You seem to have no trouble accepting who I am, where I am from and what I can do,” Loki continued, “I can understand you having at least learned of me in passing from your myths, given where you work, but you didn’t seem at all surprised by the reality of it.”

 

    “I have an open mind and an over-active imagination,” Mercy said simply with a shrug, “You should see some of the things that go through my mind; accepting _you_ is nothing.”

 

    “You’re not easily fazed, are you?” Loki said almost admiringly with a grin.

 

    “Noo,” Mercy laughed.

 

    “Good,” Loki said approvingly, “You wouldn’t last very long with me otherwise.”

 

    Mercy giggled despite herself and he smiled. “So, when did you learn Spanish, anyway?” She asked curiously.

 

    “Just this past week. I’m _still_ learning, actually. It’s a more complex language than I thought; so many different dialects.”

 

    “That there are,” Mercy said with a laugh, “I could narrow it down for you, though; mine’s puertorrican with a bit of dominican mixed in. My mom’s Dominican and my dad’s from Puerto Rico, which is where I was born and raised.”

 

    “I see,” Loki replied with a nod, “I’ll remember that; thank you.”

 

    “De nada. So, what about you?”

 

    “What about me?” He asked back. Mercy gave him a _look_ and he sighed. “I was,” he paused for a fraction of a second, “Raised in Asgard, the second son of the royal family, and as soon as I was old enough, I spent much time travelling amongst the realms. There’s simply too much to see, too much to learn, to stay put.”

 

    “I can understand that,” Mercy said, nodding, “If I could afford to travel; I wouldn’t sit still very long either.” She bit her lip for a moment, debating with herself. “‘Raised’, though?” She finally asked.

 

    Loki tensed slightly and kept his eyes forward. “I was born on Jötunheim,” He replied almost tonelessly.

 

    “Mm; that’s the realm of frost giants, right?” Mercy asked after a quick mental search for the name, and Loki nodded stiffly, “I take it you didn’t always know.”

 

    “I did not,” Loki replied bitterly.

 

    “Well, that’s just bad parenting,” Mercy said with a frown.

 

    “That would imply there was any parenting involved,” Loki said with a scoff, “Odin is many things, but a father is hardly one of them.”

 

    “What about your mother?” Mercy asked as they reached a bench and sat down.

 

    “It’s one of her few failures; going along with the decision when she knew better,” Loki replied then smiled slightly, “But I have never doubted her love. She’s the only person in the nine realms who really understands me, _appreciates_ me. I have never felt invisible in her eyes.”

 

    “Sounds like a wonderful person,” Mercy said, liking the woman already, “And your dad sounds like he needs a few pescosa’s, que se deje de pendejases.”

 

    Loki couldn’t help the terribly undignified snort that escaped him at that before simply abandoning any attempt to remain serious and bursting out laughing. He wasn’t sure what he found more amusing; the way Mercy expressed herself, or the images it inspired in his mind now that he better understood what she was saying.

 

    “Well,” Loki said breathlessly once he could finally stop laughing, “I appreciate the concern, and I’ll be sure to pass that recommendation along to mother.”

 

    “Somehow I doubt it _hasn’t_ crossed her mind at least a few times,” Mercy replied with a grin.

 

    “I think you might be right.”

 

    “So, how _did_ you find out, anyway? That you were adopted, I mean.”

 

    “There was an... _incident_ involving a tantrum thrown by my brother, who had every intention of storming into Jötunheim and picking a fight with the giants,” Loki explained, “I sent a guard to tell father of Thor’s plan then stalled long enough for him to be there when we reached the Bifrost,” he paused, “That’s the...”

 

     “Bridge between realms; I know,” Mercy cut in.

 

    “Well, there was an argument and during it I noticed Odin seemed more upset about our destination than what Thor intended to do there, which I brought up, only to dismissed more sharply than usual,” Loki’s fists clenched on his lap at the memory and Mercy put her hand on his wrist; he glanced down at it then took a deep breath, calming down, “I insisted on knowing what he was hiding and Thor, in a moment of surprising clarity, backed me up until father told us everything.” He huffed a humourless laugh. “Thor didn’t even look at him for a week,” He recalled, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that upset.”

 

    “And you?”

 

    “It was a shock to say the least, but it also explained much. I haven’t spoken to him directly since.”

 

    “How long ago was that?”

 

    “Three years,” Loki replied with a proud grin.

 

    “You don’t mess around,” Mercy said, sounding impressed, earning a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Buenos días, Señorita Espinal' = 'Good morning, Miss Espinal'  
> 'Te vez muy bonita hoy' = 'You look very pretty today'
> 
> 'Gracias' = 'Thank you'  
> 'Tú no te vez tan mal' = 'You don't look so bad yourself'
> 
> 'De nada' = 'You're welcome'
> 
> 'Pescosa's' = slang derived from 'pescozadas'(plural); it refers to a slap to the back or side of the head.
> 
> 'Que se deje de pendejases' = an expression used to mean someone needs to wise up and stop being an idiot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters for one, because I feel productive today.

    It quickly became a routine for Loki to disappear once a week without a word, sometimes even two days, and it wasn’t long before Thor got curious and asked him about it, only to be told it was none of his business. This didn’t really surprise Thor; he knew his brother was a very private person, and it had been a very long time since he had been an exception to that, by his own doing. Still, he wanted to know, if only because Loki was always in such high spirits when he returned.

 

    He asked his mother first, knowing that Loki told her more about the goings on in his life than he did anyone else; Frigga told him to leave it be, that Loki would tell him in his own time if he decided to tell him at all. After a month he realised he simply didn’t have the patience for that and he instead went to ask Heimdall. The Gatekeeper told him that the queen had beaten him to it and he wasn’t at liberty to discuss this one of Loki’s activities unless the king were to ask, which ended his inquiries for a time as he was _absolutely not_ going to involve Odin in this. Loki would never forgive him if he did, and he genuinely didn’t want to do it anyway.

 

    “It’s a woman, isn’t it?” Thor asked Loki as he walked beside him, having caught up with him on his way from the library.

 

    Loki sighed in annoyance, adjusting the books Frigga had asked him to get for her in his arm, wishing he had thought to cloak himself from sight; he knew Thor could be persistent, but this was ridiculous. “What makes you say that?” He asked in a bored tone.

 

    “I’ve only ever seen you act the way you have been when you’re courting,” Thor replied.

 

    “And if I am; what makes you think it’s a woman?” Loki scoffed.

 

    Thor paused for a second, remembering that really wasn’t an assumption one should make regarding Loki, but quickly fell back in step with him. “So I’m right; you _are_ courting,” He said with an excitement that amused Loki even as his insistence to know his business annoyed him.

 

    “Why are you suddenly so interested in my life?” Loki asked, blatantly avoiding the question.

 

    “I have always been interested,” Thor replied indignantly and Loki stopped walking abruptly and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, causing Thor to look away guiltily. “Well, I am now...” He muttered and Loki rolled his eyes.

 

    Loki thought for a moment, debating with himself. There was no denying that Thor had been trying to mend the rift between them that he hadn’t even noticed was there. Three years couldn’t quite make up for the past few centuries, true, but it was something. And if Loki was honest with himself; he had missed his brother, even when it hurt to be near him. He had kept him at arm’s length this whole time because he wasn’t quite ready to let him in after everything. But was it really worth it when all it did was hurt them both?

 

    “Her name is Mercedes, and she’s midgardian; now will you leave me alone?” He finally said before beginning to walk again.

 

    There; he took the first step. That was enough, right?

 

    “I wish to meet her,” Thor called as he resumed following him and Loki froze.

 

    Apparently not.

 

    “Absolutely _not!”_ Loki snapped, resuming his steps.

 

    “Why not?”

 

    “Because I won’t have her associating me with _you,”_ Loki replied sternly, “I’d rather she continue to like me, thank you very much.”

 

    “Well, you can’t just pretend I don’t exist!” Thor said indignantly.

 

    “Why not? _You_ did,” Loki said a bit harsher than he intended.

 

    Thor stopped walking and Loki knew he’d gone too far. He hadn’t even intended to say that; it just happened. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t still harbour resentment, but he thought he was succeeding well enough in getting past it. Evidently not.

 

    “Thor...” Loki began, turning around to face him but not quite meeting his eyes.

 

    “No; you’re... you’re right,” Thor interjected sombrely, “I truly don’t have the right to demand your attention.”

 

    Loki swallowed and met his brother’s gaze. “I _am_ trying, Thor,” He said heavily.

 

    Thor closed the distance between them and placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “I know, Loki,” He said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze, “And I... I appreciate it more than words can say; it’s more than I deserve.”

 

    “No, brother,” Loki replied with a faint smile, “If it was; I wouldn’t be doing it. I’m done wasting my time on those who aren’t worth it.”

 

    Thor frowned slightly, knowing _exactly_ what Loki was referring to. _He_ hadn’t really forgiven Odin for the lie, even if he wasn’t basically ignoring him the way his brother was; he seriously doubted that Loki ever would. Not that Thor blamed him; he was essentially raised to hate himself, after all, and then told the lie had been for his own good. He still remembered _that_ conversation all too well.

 

_“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Loki had demanded, sounding more broken than Thor had ever heard him._

_“To protect you,” Odin had replied, earning a disbelieving scoff, “So that you wouldn’t feel different.”_

_“I_ am _different!” Loki had yelled, “I always was! And_ everyone _knew it! And all these centuries, you didn’t think I_ deserved _to know why I was never good enough for any of you?!”_

 

    It had startled Thor then, to hear himself included in his brother’s pain, but the more he thought about it the more he realised he _had_ in fact pushed him aside. He didn’t even remember when it had started. Loki had always followed him everywhere - he stood by his side for every adventure he dragged them to, and unerringly bailed them out when they were in too deep - and he hadn’t even noticed he was repeatedly breaking his heart.

 

    “I will be here _this_ time, brother,” Thor promised, taking a step back, “Whenever you’re ready.”

 

    Loki nodded gratefully then turned and continued on his way, feeling the beginnings of a weight lifting off his shoulders.


	5. Chapter 5

    Mercy had decided before her first date with Loki that if it went well, she would give him three month’s chance; that had been how long her longest relationship had lasted, and she figured if he stuck around that long at least, he was worth getting invested in. After five months with steadily increasing visits, she felt comfortable enough to actually say they were dating; it helped that he not only understood her reluctance, but confessed he had shared it as well, despite the fact that he definitely was interested in a more long-term arrangement long before then.

 

    Today marked the sixth month since they had met, and as she worked Mercy found herself randomly smiling at the memory. As insulted and annoyed as she had been at the time, in hindsight his reaction to _her_ reaction was very amusing; it would definitely be something she was going to tease him with for a long time to come.

 

    “Dare I ask what you’re smiling about?” Loki asked when she walked up to him outside the library once her shift was over.

 

    Mercy grinned as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned up to kiss him. “Not if you plan to keep your dignity, mi cielo,” She replied sweetly.

 

    “I thought as much,” Loki said dryly as they began the walk to her car.

 

    “It’s your own fault,” Mercy scoffed, “ _I’m_ not the one who walked up to a complete _stranger_ looking to get laid. And who even goes to a _library_ for that, anyway?”

 

    “That’s _not_ why I was...” Loki began then broke off with a sigh. “You’re very distracting,” He said instead, almost accusingly.

 

    “Is that why you made a royal mess of it, then?” Mercy laughed, “That’s actually kind of flattering.”

 

    “Oh, shut up,” Loki grumbled, fighting the urge to smile.

 

 

    Once at her house, Mercy shed her work outfit and took a quick shower then dressed in a black button up shirt with a brown vest over it, a brown-and-red-toned gypsy skirt and black ballet flats, brushed her hair out quickly, and applied some black eyeliner and mahogany-coloured lipstick. As she was leaving her room, she heard voices seemingly coming from the living room; one of them was Loki’s but she didn’t recognise the other one, and it sounded like they were arguing. She sped up her steps to find an angry Loki standing before the tall, blond man she figured was Thor, from the descriptions Loki had given her.

 

    “Loki; you’ve been hiding this for months,” Thor was saying, clearly trying to calm his brother down, “It was only a matter of time before he would want to know.”

 

    “I wasn’t _hiding_ anything,” Loki replied, “If he wanted to know; he could have bothered to ask.”

 

    “You haven’t spoken to him in three years; what reason would he have to believe you would start now?” Thor countered.

 

    “I haven’t spoken to him because he hasn’t bothered to try!” Loki half-yelled, “In _three years_ he hasn’t _once_ bothered to approach me. He’s simply waiting for me to tire of being angry and come running back to him, eager for the approval I will never receive.”

 

    Thor sighed, unsure what to respond to that, and looked away, the action making him notice Mercy standing in the doorway watching them. He cleared his throat and Loki looked over as well.

 

    “I’d ask if this is a bad time, but it’s _my_ house, so...” Mercy said, walking fully into the room.

 

    “You must be the Lady Mercedes,” Thor greeted, forcing a smile onto his face, “I am Thor.”

 

    “‘Lady’?” Mercy said with an amused snort, “Never been accused of being _that_ before.”

 

    “Give him a few minutes; I’m sure he’ll learn,” Loki said with a smile that was at least partially genuine.

 

    Mercy let out a laugh then walked over to him. “I take it que el cabrón knows about me, then?” She asked.

 

    “It would seem so,” Loki replied, smiling despite himself at how she always referred to Odin.

 

    “And how bad is that?” Mercy asked, not sounding overly concerned but still cautious.

 

    “Well, he wants to meet you; so, not good.” Loki replied.

 

    “It might not be that bad, brother,” Thor said, though he didn’t sound that convinced.

 

    “Yes; because he _always_ has _my_ best interests in mind,” Loki retorted sarcastically.

 

    “Well, _he_ might not, but mother _does,”_ Thor countered, “And you know she will be there.”

 

    “It’s a moot point regardless; we’ve already made plans,” Loki said dismissively. At that, Thor looked decidedly uncomfortable and Loki frowned. “He told you to drag me back by force if I didn’t come willingly, didn’t he?” He asked plainly.

 

    “Something along those lines,” Thor confessed.

 

    “Oh, well _that’s_ perfectly reasonable,” Mercy commented sarcastically, “And he actually expects this to work out well?”

 

    Loki took a deep breath and let out a frustrated sigh. “Well; we might as well get this over with,” Loki said snidely, “Before he sends in the armies.”

 

 

    It turned out that travelling via the Bifrost did not much agree with Mercy. She loved the colours; the motion, not so much. If Loki hadn’t been holding onto her when they arrived in Asgard she was certain that she would have collapsed, as her legs simply refused to support her for a good fifteen seconds.

 

    “It takes some getting used to,” Thor said sympathetically as Loki attempted to pry Mercy’s fingers from his shoulders.

 

    For such a small creature, she had quite a grip.

 

    “That information would have been useful _thirty seconds ago,”_ Mercy hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the blond.

 

    “You expect too much, fríðr,” Loki said, finally getting her to release him, “I’m afraid foresight is not one of Thor’s many talents.”

 

    Thor glared at Loki but said nothing, simply nodded to Heimdall in greeting and led the way out of the observatory. Loki took Mercy’s hand in his own and followed Thor, not even bothering to acknowledge Heimdall, though the Gatekeeper didn’t really mind; they always got along better that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Mi cielo' = a term of endearment; literally means 'my sky'.
> 
> 'Cabrón' = usually used as a derogatory term akin to calling someone an asshole; literally means a male goat.
> 
> 'Fríðr' = Old Norse for 'lovely', 'fair', 'beautiful'.


	6. Chapter 6

    In retrospect, maybe setting Mercy loose in the throne room was not the best of ideas. It wasn’t as though Loki didn’t know any better either; he knew she had a fiery personality at times, he knew how she felt about family, and he knew she at best disliked everything she knew about Odin so far. It wasn’t that surprising that they would not get along.

 

    The journey through the city into the palace didn’t take as long as it might have if Mercy were the type to be impressed by buildings, and perhaps Loki should have taken the time to inform her of what was and wasn’t acceptable behaviour, but he hadn’t; partially because he just couldn’t be bothered, as annoyed as he was in being back so soon, and partially because he didn’t really think she would do or say anything _that_ bad.

 

    They stood before the throne, all present looking at Mercy expectantly, waiting for her to kneel in greeting as was custom. It quickly became apparent that she would not, and Thor cleared his throat lightly and quietly informed her of what was expected.

 

    “Yeah; I’m not gonna do that,” Mercy replied with a slight scoff.

 

    “You have to,” Thor insisted.

 

    “Why?” Mercy asked slowly.

 

    “Because he’s the king,” Thor replied.

 

    “Not _my_ king,” Mercy said plainly.

 

    Thor looked towards his father and shrugged slightly, not sure how to argue her point, since it was technically accurate. Odin did not look particularly impressed, not that that seemed to bother Mercy. “I suppose manners are too much to expect from a midgardian,” The king said dismissively.

 

    Mercy looked at him slightly incredulously and placed her hands on her hips. “Un momento; you want to talk ‘manners’?” She began, raising an eyebrow, “How about we start with how you seem to find it completely okay to call us here with no option to decline and no consideration for any plans made?”

 

    “What plans would those be?” Odin asked, choosing to ignore her tone for the moment.

 

    “The personal kind,” Mercy replied pointedly, “The kind one would only discuss with _family.”_

 

    “I am certainly that,” Odin said somewhat sharply.

 

    “¿Oh, sí? That’s funny, ’cause where _I’m_ from family looks after each other,” Mercy replied, crossing her arms under her breasts, “And last I checked, that didn’t include lying to them their whole life and then acting like they’re being unreasonable when they have the nerve to be angry about it.”

 

    “You tread dangerous ground, mortal,” Odin warned.

 

    “Oh, I haven’t even started,” Mercy retorted, “Should we go into your blatant favouritism? Your unrealistic expectations? The damn near lack of any sort of parental affection?”

 

    “Hold your tongue, before you exceed my patience,” Odin snapped.

 

    “I will not!” Mercy snapped back, earning shocked looks from them all, “If you think you can intimidate me; you got another thing coming, because the only who can do _that_ is my mother,” she returned her hands to her hips and glared at Odin, “You are either really oblivious or incredibly sadistic to take your enemy’s discarded child home, raise him to hate where he came from and what he is, and then expect him to love you for it.”

 

    A stunned silence followed for a moment as they processed that she had, in fact, just said that. “You know nothing of what you speak,” Odin finally said coldly.

 

    “A pues, by all means,” Mercy said calmly, gesturing widely with her hands, “Explain it.”

 

    “I have no need to explain myself to a mortal _child,”_ Odin replied.

 

    Mercy scoffed amusedly, glancing away before returning her eyes to the king. “And this is why I will never respect you,” Mercy said, earning nervous glances from both Thor and Loki, “I’m not going to blindly agree with your decisions just because you happen to be the guy in charge here, and I am definitely not going be quiet just because you don’t like to be contradicted.”

 

    “Enough,” Odin commanded, “I will not be insulted in my own home!”

 

    “Well, you’re welcome to come to mine,” Mercy retorted cheekily.

 

 

    Loki paced back and forth in front of the cell where Mercy sat cross-legged on the floor, calmly braiding a handful of locks from her hair, waiting for Thor or his mother to come to them with any news. Realistically speaking, Odin couldn’t very well keep Mercy there; she hadn’t really done anything wrong. If she had been a citizen of Asgard the way she had spoken to the king could very well be considered treason to a vindictive enough person, but she wasn’t. What’s more; she was, loosely speaking, an invited guest. Still, Loki wouldn’t put it past his so-called father to find some excuse to justify imprisonment.

 

    “Keep pacing like that, amor, and you’re going to burn a hole into the floor,” Mercy said lightly after a while.

 

    “Do you have any idea how serious this could be, Mercy?” Loki asked as he stopped in front of her.

 

    “I’m not sorry,” Mercy replied, “And I’m not taking back what I said.”

 

    “I don’t expect you to,” Loki said then ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply, “This is my fault, really; I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.”

 

    “Honey, if you want someone quiet; don’t date a puertorriqueña,” Mercy replied with a scoff, “And I didn’t hear you disagreeing with me.”

 

    “Mercy...” Loki began then sighed again, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful; I can’t describe how it felt to see you stand up for me,” he stood as close as he could to the barrier without actually touching it, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt over me. I care for you too much; it’s just not worth it.”

 

    Mercy smiled at him. “It’s always worth it, Loki,” She replied, “Every single time. You move the universe for someone you love.”

 

    Loki blinked in surprise; he knew there was something between them, but neither of them had called it _that_ before. Slowly, a tentative smile made its way to his face. “I suppose you do,” He said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Un momento' = One moment.
> 
> 'Sí' means 'yes'.
> 
> 'A pues' = Well, then.
> 
> 'Amor' means 'love'.
> 
> 'Puertorriqueña' means female puertorrican; for a male you would end it with an 'o'.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven chapters in and I only _now_ realise I forgot to rate this thing...
> 
> Pretty sure it's safe to go with a 'T'; I'll change it later if I have to.

    Mercy had taken to lying on her stomach on the floor and tossing balled-up loose threads she pulled from her clothes at the barrier to watch them sizzle, while Loki had sat down before it and was reading to her from a book he’d conjured for himself. She wasn’t paying much attention to the words, considering she couldn’t really understand the language, but she liked to hear him read. It had been half an hour since she had been sent to the dungeons and still no word had arrived.

 

    “I would kill for arepas right about now,” Mercy said after a while, turning over onto her back and staring at the ceiling.

 

    Loki stopped reading and looked up at her. He searched his mind for the word and vaguely remembered it was food of some sort. “Well, I don’t know about that,” He replied, closing the book after marking his place, “But if you’re hungry; I could have something brought down.”

 

    Mercy tilted her head up, eyeing him upside down. “Sure you could?” She asked half-jokingly, “It might interfere with someone’s plan to get an apology out of me.”

 

    Loki frowned and stood, sending the book back to his chambers. “He’s welcome to try and stop me,” He replied firmly before turning and beginning to walk towards the stairs that led out of the dungeon.

 

    “Wait!” Mercy called after him, causing him to stop and look back at her, and she stretched her arms over her head and reached out to him dramatically, “Quédate. Save me from boredom!”

 

    Loki rolled his eyes and huffed amusedly. “I won’t be gone long, fríðr,” He replied, “You’ll live.”

 

    “Malo!” Mercy cried, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

 

    Loki chuckled, shaking his head slightly, and continued on his way. When he was gone Mercy stood and paced the length of the cell slowly, running her hand over the solid walls, then she threw her arms out and spun her way to the centre rapidly before stopping abruptly, stumbling a few steps as the momentary dizziness faded. She walked to one end of the cell and spread her arms out at her sides then proceeded to place one foot in front of the other as she began to walk a more-or-less straight line to the other end, as though she were balancing on a tightrope. When she reached the barrier she leaned forward a bit and blew on it, watching it ripple slightly in response; as it settled she noticed a prisoner across the hall and one cell over was staring at her strangely and she stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to glare at her.

 

    “You don’t fear many things, do you?” Frigga asked somewhat amusedly as she approached the cell.

 

    “La chancla still scares the hell outta me,” Mercy replied with a lopsided grin as she looked over to the queen, earning a questioning look, “It’s a Hispanic thing; my grandmother had very set ideas on discipline. She and I disagreed a lot.”

 

    “I see,” Frigga said with a slight smile, coming to a stop before the barrier, “There aren’t many who are willing to speak to my husband as you did...”

 

    “I’m not apologising,” Mercy replied.

 

    “I should hope not!” Frigga said with a slight laugh, and Mercy blinked at her in surprise, earning a conspiratorial kind of smile. “Between you and me,” The queen said softly, leaning forward a bit, “I have been waiting for that moment eagerly.”

 

    “You knew that would happen?” Mercy asked bemusedly.

 

    “I did,” Frigga replied then eyed her sympathetically, “I wish I had Seen this particular outcome, though; I would have had the cell furnished a bit at least, so you’d be more comfortable.”

 

    “Am I going to be in here long enough for that to be necessary?” Mercy asked, looking around a bit.

 

    “Not unless Odin wishes to test Loki’s ingenuity,” Frigga replied, “The only reason you are still in there at all is because I asked him to let me handle this before doing anything drastic.”

 

    “And what mami says, goes,” Mercy said with a slight laugh, earning a smile.

 

    “I’m not gone for ten minutes, and you’re already discussing me?” Loki said incredulously as he returned.

 

    “Pues claro!” Mercy replied cheerfully, “That’s how it’s done.”

 

    “If it’s any consolation; we’ve only just started,” Frigga added.

 

    Loki looked between the two then sighed in resignation. “This. This is why I was afraid of the day you would meet,” He muttered.

 

    “Ha! And we haven’t even gotten to the embarrassing childhood stories yet,” Mercy laughed.

 

    Loki glared at her. “Keep in mind that goes both ways,” He warned.

 

    “Mi vida, it is impossible to embarrass me; I have no shame,” Mercy replied with a grin, “Besides which, my mamma would be too busy scoping you out as a potential son-in-law to try it.”

 

    At that, Loki’s glare changed into a slightly startled expression that he quickly hid. “A first meeting is a bit early for that, surely?” He asked evenly.

 

    “Probably,” Mercy replied with a shrug, “But that’s never stopped her; we all kind of just go with it at this point.”

 

    Loki relaxed slightly and turned to his mother. “And?” He asked expectantly.

 

    “And I have spoken with him,” Frigga replied, “You know how stubborn your father is.”

 

    “He’s _not_ my father,” Loki said firmly.

 

    “Loki...” Frigga began with a sigh.

 

    “Mother, _don’t,”_ Loki interjected, “You won’t change my mind on this.”

 

    Frigga frowned slightly but let it go for the moment. “Give him time to calm down, and he will see this rationally,” She said instead, “He cannot rightly keep her here and he knows it.”

 

    Loki mulled it over as the food he had ordered to be brought for Mercy arrived. “I will wait an hour, for you,” He said at last, “But no more.”

 

    “I’m confident it won’t take that long,” Frigga said then turned to Mercy and smiled at her, “I look forward to telling you those stories.”

 

    With that she turned and walked away, taking Loki’s hand in her own as she passed him and squeezing it affectionately before leaving the dungeon. Loki waited for the servant that brought the food and the guards that came with her to leave before walking up to the cell and sitting before it facing Mercy as she began to eat.

 

    “I’m torn between being happy that mother likes you, and fearing for my dignity,” Loki said after a moment.

 

    “Isn’t it a bit late to be worried about your dignity around me?” Mercy teased.

 

    “Oh, shut up,” Loki replied, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An arepa is a type of food made of ground maize dough or cooked flour, popular in several South American and Caribbean countries. They are really, really good and you should absolutely try some.
> 
> 'Quédate' = Stay.
> 
> 'Malo' = Bad. Contextually she called him a meanie, because she's mature af.
> 
> 'Chancla' is slang for 'flip-flop' (as in the sandals), which are often used as a disciplinary tool by Hispanic moms and grandmas in lieu of a spanking. And I am _totally_ not drawing from personal experience here...
> 
> 'Mami' = Mom or mommy.
> 
> 'Pues claro' = But of course.
> 
> 'Mi vida' = Term of endearment; literally means 'my life'.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random unrelated news: I have a pinched nerve in my neck and it's a pain in the ass.
> 
>  
> 
> You may now enjoy the chapter.

    In truth in took an hour and a half for Odin to _graciously_ decide to set Mercy free, but Loki waited (im)patiently without (much) complaint after Mercy promised him a reward after, though she wouldn’t tell him what it was. As she stepped out of the cell, Mercy looked towards the prisoner who had been watching her and flashed him a large grin, earning a scowl; she turned to see Loki eyeing her curiously but she merely shrugged a shoulder, wrapped her arms around one of his and pulled him towards the stairs leading out of the dungeons.

 

    “So...” Mercy began cheerfully as they met up with Thor, who had been on his way to meet them, “How fast does he want me off the realm?”

 

    Thor chuckled a bit, shaking his head. “I can see why you like her,” He told Loki, who rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like, ‘You have no idea’, and then turned his attention to Mercy, “Actually; I’ve been asked to formally invite you to dinner.”

 

    “So, yesterday, then?” Mercy said with an amused snort.

 

    “Sounds about right,” Thor replied with a laugh.

 

    “You don’t _have_ to accept,” Loki spoke up, “He’ll just be waiting for you to make a big enough mistake to justify getting rid of you.”

 

    “Oh, well I wouldn’t _dream_ of disappointing him,” Mercy replied with exaggerated emphasis, “After all; I was raised to be a good girl.”

 

    Loki choked on a laugh and had to stop walking for a moment to collect himself. “You’re as much a _good girl_ as I am a _saint,_ kjære,” He finally said, looking down at her with a smile that was both affectionate and proud.

 

 

    Mercy could feel the eyes of all she passed following her long before she decided to glance around the feast hall as Loki lead her to the table at the very end where the royal family and other nobles ate. She saw a few ladies eyeing her top to bottom judgementally and she smiled warmly at them, causing a few to turn their heads away sharply while a few others blinked slightly startled and returned curt smiles of their own.

 

    “Just ignore them; they’re empty-headed snobs,” Loki murmured to her, not even bothering to glance in their direction as they passed, though some clearly tried to get his attention.

 

    “Se atrapan más moscas con miel que con vinagre, my dear,” Mercy replied sweetly.

 

    Loki chuckled and glanced down at her. “‘Flies’, hm?” He said amusedly, “How appropriate.”

 

    Finally they reached their seats, and Loki made a show of helping Mercy into her seat to Frigga’s left, where he usually sat when not besides Thor, before moving to the next seat at Mercy’s left. He pointedly looked at Odin in clear challenge as he sat but the king said nothing, merely continued eating, and Loki smirked slightly in victory.

 

    “So tell me, Mercedes; how did you and Loki meet?” Frigga asked after a while.

 

    Loki practically choked on his drink and Mercy fought hard to suppress a smile, but was not altogether successful. “‘Mercy’, please,” She corrected amiably, “The only one who calls me Mercedes is my grandmother, to annoy me.”

 

    Frigga chuckled. “Very well, then; ‘Mercy’, it is,” She conceded.

 

    Mercy glanced at Loki, who was eyeing her with forced neutrality, before turning back to the queen. “We met at the library where I work,” She replied lightly, “He had a question, and I answered it.”

 

    She could practically feel Loki relaxing beside her before he turned back to the person he had been speaking to. “I see,” Frigga said simply, though her smile suggested she had noticed also, and they shared a look of secret amusement.

 

    “Afterwards, he asked me out and I agreed,” Mercy continued as though nothing had happened, “And, well; here we are.”

 

    “Well, I for one am glad you decided to stay with him,” Frigga said then raised her voice a slight bit, “No easy task, putting up with the men of _this_ family.”

 

    Odin looked at his wife briefly with a slightly bemused expression before turning back to his conversation, and Mercy had to cover her mouth to muffle her laughter. “Don’t worry; I have a big family,” She said once she managed to calm down, “I know all about handling the difficult ones.”

 

    Frigga hummed lightly. “Good,” She replied approvingly.

 

    The rest of the dinner passed without incident and soon after Mercy found herself swept away into the group of ladies she had smiled at, though all but one of the ones that had turned away from her were absent. Loki had every intention of being within earshot at the very least, but Odin conveniently called him into a debate with an Alfheim lord, which immediately led him to question the ladies’ motives but there wasn’t much he could do.

 

    The ladies’ conversation was a bit more shallow than she would have liked, but Mercy still listened attentively, occasionally offering a response when the subject veered to things that weren’t completely foreign to her. They asked her questions about Midgard and Mercy found herself patiently correcting quite a bit of incredibly biased misinformation, though she didn’t really blame them for their ignorance; she dealt with stereotypes all the time, and could handle it well enough. She turned her attention to one of the ladies as she spoke and noticed the one next to her was glaring at her with an intensity that was quickly masked when she realised she had been caught, and Mercy raised an eyebrow curiously.

 

    “Lady Mercy, is something wrong?” The lady - Nanna, her name was - asked when she realised Mercy was no longer listening to her.

 

    Mercy snapped her attention back to her and smiled. “Just ‘Mercy’, please,” She corrected for at least the fourth time, “And no; nothing’s wrong. You were saying?”

 

    Nanna looked at her curiously but shook her head slightly and continued the conversation. The lady next to her returned to glaring at Mercy, but she ignored it for a while. “What could he _possibly_ see in you?” She spoke up suddenly, causing Nanna to stop abruptly in the middle of her sentence as they all turned to look at the speaker in shock.

 

    “Margit!” Another of the ladies - Ingrid - half-gasped.

 

    “I can’t be the only one thinking it,” Margit retorted indignantly.

 

    “Mira, vamo’ a parar la vaina aquí,” Mercy said, raising her hands in a stopping motion, earning confused looks at her language, “If you have a problem with Loki’s judgement, take it up with him.”

 

    “‘Judgement’,” Margit scoffed derisively, “Men are easily swayed in the right... _position...”_

 

    Mercy rolled her jaw and narrowed her eyes at Margit, placing a hand on her hip. “You got something to say to me, _puta,_ then out with it!” She snapped, throwing her other hand up as if welcoming the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Se atrapan más moscas con miel que con vinagre' = 'You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar'.
> 
> 'Mira, vamo’ a parar la vaina aquí' = 'Look, let's stop this here'.
> 
> 'Puta' = 'Whore'.


	9. Chapter 9

    Mercy’s voice carried quite a bit and at the sound of it Loki, who’d had only half his attention on the men before him in the first place, immediately looked over and without even bothering to excuse himself began making his way there, much to the bemusement of the elven lord who’d been mid-sentence. Conversations nearest the women had ceased and all looked at Mercy in surprise as she glared at Margit, who looked very offended; she had no idea what Mercy had just called her, but the way it was spat out told her it wasn’t exactly a compliment.

 

    “I believe I already have,” Margit said venomously, “After all; there really are only so many ways a... _creature_ like you could keep the attention of a prince.”

 

    “Oh, that’s your first thought, is it?” Mercy replied with a sharp smile, “I’d say that says a helluva lot more about _you_ than me...”

 

    Margit bristled as the other ladies did their best to suppress their laughter, while others around them were not so generous. “How _dare_ you-!” Margit began angrily.

 

    “How dare I, what; give you the exact same treatment you just gave me?” Mercy interrupted pointedly, “Maybe you should think about that before you go hurling accusations at strangers; not all of us are just going to ignore your being a bitch.”

 

    “I’ll drink to _that!”_ A dark-haired woman spoke up from a nearby table, lifting her glass at Mercy, and the other warriors around her burst out laughing.

 

    Margit looked about, thoroughly embarrassed, and then glared at Mercy hatefully one last time and stormed away. A bit of laughter bubbled up out of Ingrid and she quickly covered her mouth with a hand, her cheeks reddening slightly; she looked over Mercy’s shoulder and her eyes widened. Mercy had barely turned halfway around when Loki swept by, grabbed her elbow and pulled her along with him to the nearest empty balcony, his face completely blank.

 

    “That was Margit Jorlafsdottir,” He began after a moment, “Her father is one of Odin’s most trusted advisors.”

 

    “Your point?” Mercy asked, unimpressed.

 

    “You just insulted her in the middle of a crowded hall, in front of several nobles,” Loki continued.

 

    “Yeah; I did,” Mercy replied unapologetically with a nod.

 

    “I very much need to kiss you right now,” Loki finished.

 

    Mercy had just enough time to let out a loud laugh before Loki wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, tangling the fingers of his free hand in her dark hair as he dipped his head down to attack her lips with his own. Mercy responded immediately, wrapping an arm around his neck and grabbing hold of his coat with her other hand, using it to steady herself as she stood up on the tips of her toes to deepen the kiss, almost wishing she’d worn heels. Loki responded by lifting her off her feet entirely, eliciting a small muffled sound of surprise from her that he chuckled slightly at.

 

    Just when oxygen was becoming an issue in their somewhat friendly competition for dominance they heard the slight sound of someone clearing their throat, though it still took Mercy tugging sharply on Loki’s hair for him to part from her, and then only reluctantly. Loki set Mercy down on her feet and they turned to face a rather amused looking Frigga.

 

    “I have just been approached by a rather upset Lady Margit,” The queen said, sounding for all the world serious even as her smile spoke otherwise, “She had some serious accusations and complaints against our guest.”

 

    “Let me guess; she conveniently left out the part where she started the insults,” Mercy deadpanned.

 

    “Naturally,” Frigga replied, “I supposed she thought that, for diplomacy’s sake, I would take her word over yours.”

 

    “She’s an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Loki scoffed distastefully.

 

    “Even if I were so inclined; Lady Ingrid was very quick to come to your defence,” Frigga continued, “She seems quite fond of you already.”

 

    “I’ll have to thank her, then,” Mercy replied.

 

    “Now, do have in mind that she will go to her father with this, and he in turn will very likely speak with Odin,” Frigga warned, “Margit is as spoiled as they come; she will not simply let this go. Especially if she thinks this will tear you both apart.”

 

    Mercy turned to Loki with an arched eyebrow. “I gotta ask; is she just delusional, or does she have a reason to be jealous?” She asked with a hint of amusement.

 

    Loki scoffed and crossed his arms at his chest. “I’ll have you know I have _standards_ , woman,” He replied indignantly, “And they do _not_ include social-climbing harlots like her.”

 

    “Hey, even the smartest person can slip,” Mercy said with a shrug, “I need to know these things.”

 

    “Well, there’s nothing to know, because there is nothing there,” Loki replied firmly, “There never was and there never will be.”

 

    “I wish you all the luck in convincing _her_ of that, dear,” Frigga said sympathetically then smirked slightly, “And need I remind you that you do have _private_ chambers...”

 

    With that she turned and left, leaving Mercy laughing and Loki shifting a bit uncomfortably. After a while, he grabbed Mercy’s hand and led her back inside before exiting the feast hall and pulling her along the palace until they reached his hall. Once there, Mercy looked around the antechamber while Loki when into his bedchamber, coming back out a bit later with a long, narrow box in his hands. He took Mercy’s hand again and led her to a seat in front of the fireplace.

 

    “I meant to give this to you for your Birthday, but I couldn’t get away,” He began, handing her the box, “I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

 

    “Better late than never, eh?” Mercy said with a smile. She opened the box and her smile widened; inside was a bookmark in the shape of a sword, made of silver, and dangling from a chain attached to the hilt was a small bead made of lava. She looked back up at Loki, positively beaming, and threw her arms around him. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” She murmured, earning a slight laugh.


End file.
